


sempiternal

by cthru



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Dorks in Love, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, and i forgot wrote it, the author uses fancy words eyyy, the cheese is strong in this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-18 00:27:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9354302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cthru/pseuds/cthru
Summary: He knew that he was home when her lips touched his.Or:Jake's thoughts during an alternate but not-so-alternate reunion after Florida.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a long time ago and forgot about it until I found it in my drafts and decided 'what the hell, i'll post it.' This was done just before 'Coral Palms Pt. 3' came out, so beware of that, it's not exactly how it is in the actual episode. The idea was using some of the most beautiful words in the English language according to a list I found and this short lil thang came out.   
> Hope you enjoy! :)

He knew that he was home when her lips touched his.

All the emotions he had been suppressing for the longest time flooded through him, all the way from his heart to his toes, conflating together into one. He couldn’t put a name on it, not when his nerves were on fire – he was blissfully aware of every inch and nook of her body against his. Thinking was a fugacious thing – _feeling_ was all he did, so he didn’t think, he acted.

She was the halcyon to his woebegone – almost eight months apart had rendered him depressed, cynical, a penumbra of his past self but now, _now_ he truly felt he was Jake Peralta and not the blonde-tips-wannabe-Backstreet-Boy Larry he had been forced to become. And it was because of her. Because of the softness of her lips, the smoothness of her skin, her hands on his cheeks and her lithe body pressing urgently against his own, desperately trying to come closer. Through the mess of his feelings blooming through his figuratively battered body, Jake finally put a name on that _thing_ that made him burst from happiness and relief and which repeated itself like a mantra in his foggy mind.

Amy, Amy, Amy.

His hair was still atrocious, his clothes were a disgrace for human kind which were apparently accepted in Florida and he was probably giving off a questionable odor (a mix of the smell of America’s Stinky Butt and the sweat he had built up, trying to catch Figgis) but he finally felt like Detective Jake Peralta, member of the 9-9, die-hard fan of Die Hard, hopelessly in love with Amy Santiago.

And Jake _loved_ it.

He loved being back in New York, he loved being back to chasing bad guys, he loved seeing his best friends, _no_ , his family again, he loved being back in the 9-9 and he _adored_ the woman whom he had pined for for years and was now pressed flush against him and he knew that she felt the same.

She was impossibly warm and he thought he despised warmth – he had had enough of it in Florida but Amy’s warmth was pure, effervescent, and dulcet and he craved it, longed for it, _needed_ it. It meant she was there with him, she was solid and real and he was holding her in his arms like he had fantasized of doing all these past months. His hands had been at her waist but since then had moved between her shoulder blades, fitting perfectly into the dip there and it reminded him of their first kiss; her hands had switched their place from his cheeks to his hair, gently but at the same time insistently tugging on a few strands then smoothing them over and massaging his scalp which was something that endeared him even more to her, if it was even possible.

He had missed her lips. They were perfect to him – soft, slightly plump, always twisting and moving in just the right way against his, molding perfectly, creating a friction that was unique, something which could not be replicated by anyone else, only by her. Now, as he tasted them for the first time in an eternity, he felt like a man in a desert finally being gifted with the honor of drinking water. Or maybe he really was one – the salt between their tongues and lips was definitely there but Jake couldn’t tell whether it was from his tears, hers or a combination of both. Squeezing his eyes shut, he vowed never to put her through something like this again, never to leave her side, never to part with her lissome presence because he knew he couldn’t survive something like this again. What they had just gone through was enough for two lifetimes.

He had ached (and he hadn’t even used that word before, _ever_ , so it was legitimate) today when he had seen her for the first time and he couldn’t touch her or kiss her or tell her how much he loved her. They had both frozen and the reality that they were apart for nearly eight months hit them like a ton of bricks. They were out of sync, nothing was the same as they had left it and things were undoubtedly _awkward_ , so they left each other with a look that screamed a thousand words and put on their professional masks because it was all they could think of at the time. He wanted to do all the things he had dreamed of doing these past months but he had stayed rooted to the spot and still cursed himself for being such an incompetent fool then.

But now, _now_ , she was here in his arms, responding eagerly to his affections (or he was to hers – Jake couldn’t remember at this point) and he couldn’t be more ecstatic. When they were finally alone, when everything was wrapped up and there wasn’t any unfinished business to take care of, they had reached for each other simultaneously and hadn’t let go since. He mapped out her body, slowly remembering his way around all his favorite spots (if he were being honest, her whole being was his favorite) – the ones he knew she couldn’t resist, the ones that made her give off these little sounds Jake couldn’t get enough of and she familiarized herself once again with all the little nooks he couldn’t handle being touched by her. But she knew him so well, she knew him best of all and he couldn’t bring himself to mind because she was his favorite person of all time and Jake was completely positive and adamant that she was the one he wanted to wake up beside every morning for the rest of his life.

Reluctantly, because all good things had to be ephemeral (he had to remind himself to stop being cynical), they pulled away slightly, foreheads still touching, noses still brushing, lips barely apart. He could practically hear her eyelashes fluttering from how silent the room was, so Jake forced his own eyelids to open. When he finally succeeded in focusing the image before him, he was hit with the most beautiful and sight he could possibly imagine of ever witnessing: Amy, her lips reddened from their kiss, slightly parted, giving way for a small view of her pearly white teeth and her eyes – a gorgeous warm shade of brown, impossibly soft, glossy from the tears that had left tracks on her smooth cheeks and undoubtedly filled with love that he was sure was reflected in his own eyes.

Right then and there, gazing into the doors of her soul, Jake was reminded of a word Amy had tried to ingrain into his mind a long time ago for a reason he couldn’t recall, a word that he would never have used in his life, a word that perfectly described what they felt toward one another.

_Sempiternal._


End file.
